It's the real thing, Bogg
by Peeper Stockwell
Summary: Being thirsty for more than just water, Jeff discovers there's something wrong in the beverage department. On the way to Atlanta, Ga. he and Bogg meet up with yet another Voyager in her own time...
1. Chapter 1

**Just wanted to take this moment to thank Jake for her welcomed help in this story. Though it maybe short, she is doing a WONDERFUL job of helping with research and the work the beta's do.** **Also a big thank to her and others for giving me awesome ideas! Please enjoy this story as Bogg and Jeffrey learn how to cope with a loss and learn how to make a favorite drink.**

**1961, Hollywood, California**

Twelve-year-old Jeffrey Jones looked around the resturant where he and Phineas Bogg had just finished their long-overdue meal. He was seeing actors and actresses he'd only seen on television and in movies, or in newspapers. "Man, this is great! Bogg, check it out! That's Robert Redford!" the dark-haired boy said excitedly, his brown eyes wide.

Phineas Bogg took a sip of his papaya juice. It wasn't as great as it was when the Mongo had made it for him a few days ago, but it was still good. He honestly couldn't understand why his young partner was so worked up. _Robert Redford_? Why was _he_ so great? "Who?" Phineas asked as he bit into his fully loaded hot dog. He had gotten used to his 1960's garb, but couldn't wait to get back into his own clothes. The shirt was a little tighter than he liked, and for the first time since he'd been about Jeffrey's age, the female attention it garnered was making him uncomfortable.

"Oh, c'mon, Bogg. Don't tell me that if Marilyn Monroe was here, you wouldn't go gaga."

Phineas chuckled. That name, he recognized, having seen her picture painted on a bomber in the Second World War. "Nope. Not in the least."

"Yeah, right," Jeffrey said skeptically. He looked around a bit more, then grinned. "Hey, Bogg, I think I see her!" he hissed.

"Where? _Where?" _Phineas quickly put down his drink, and his eyes darted around the resturant.

"Ha! You just proved my point!" Jeffrey laughed, satisfied.

"Smart kids give me a pain," Phineas groaned and relaxed once more, then decided on a little payback. "You mean to tell me you wouldn't have noticed her yourself?"

Jeffrey sighed. "C'mon, Bogg, I'm twelve!"

"And what does _that _mean?"

It was the boy's turn to blush.

Phineas laughed. "It's okay, kid. You don't have to answer that."

"Thanks," Jeffrey sighed, his tone in equal parts annoyance and relief.

"No problem, kid."

Seeing Phineas had finished his drink, Jeffrey asked, "What's your next poison, Bogg?"

"My next what?"

The boy laughed. "What would you like to drink?"

Phineas groaned. He hated it when the kid did that. "Why didn't you just say that?"

The boy patted the ex-pirate on the shoulder. "Sorry, Bogg."

"It's okay. I'll have more papaya juice, please."

His partner of a year and a half made a face. "I don't see how you can drink that stuff."

"Don't knock it ' til you've tried it, kid.

Jeffrey rolled his eyes and went to to get the drinks. Water was getting old, and he wanted something different, like a coke. He hadn't had one in a while.

He got to the counter of the bar and put the money down. A huge man in his late fifties came to his aid. The man had a cigar in his mouth, and the smoke almost made Jeffrey cough. "What can I get for you, son?" he asked, drying a glass in his hand.

The smoke made his eyes water. "Uh, a glass of papaya juice and a Coke, please."

"Okay, papaya juice we have. Never heard of _coke."_

"You've got to be kidding me!" Jeffrey gasped.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"Okay. How about some Pepsi?"

"Nope, sorry. Haven't heard of that one, either."

"Don't you have _any_ soda?"

"You mean bicarb? Sure; we always have that."

"O-kaaaaay." Jeffrey had a sick feeling he was going to be drinking water. _Again._

"Would you like what your friend is having?"

"Oh, yuck, no! I guess I'm stuck with water," Jeffrey sighed.

"Good choice, son." The man put up a glass of ice cold water and Jeffrey headed back to the table. He grinned when he noticed Phineas looking around, no doubt for Marilyn Monroe.

Phineas looked up at Jeffrey as the boy handed him the drink.

"I know why the light's red," the boy told him, and Phineas leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. "There's no soda."

"Soda?"

"Yeah. It's a carbonated drink that tastes awesome when it's ice-cold."

"Never had it."

"Well, once we get it discovered, I'll have you try it. Trust me, it's better than that papaya juice of yours."

Phineas grinned. "I'll believe it when I see it, kid."

"So we have to go back and make sure it's invented."

"Nope, sorry." Phineas shook his head.

"Bogg, you always say that!"

"No, I don't, Jeff. I just think that it's not that important enough to save some drink."

"It wasn't really created for drinking, Bogg. At least at first it wasn't;"

"It wasn't?"

The conversation had taken their attention fully away from their drinks and now the ice was melting in both of them.

"Nope," Jeff shook his head. "It was first made as a medication, and from what I've heard, it didn't taste all that great."

Bogg sighed. "Okay, so where to, kid?" He opened the Omni, cupping it in his hand to hide it from view.

Jeffrey thought for a minute.

Phineas grinned. "Need a drink that bad, huh, kid?"

Jeffrey rolled his eyes. "Funny, Bogg. Actually, it's 1886, Atlanta, Georgia."

"Okay, hold on." Phineas expertly worked the dials as Jeffrey grabbed hold of his arm.  
An instant later, the two travelers were gone.

Miami, Florida; June 29, 1937

The two Voyagers landed on a soft bed of grass. Jeffrey looked around, his face full of puzzlement.

"This doesn't look like Georgia."

"Nope. Miami, 1937. Red light."

"Why'd we land here? You _did_ tell that thing the right date, didn't you?"

"Listen, kid, I put in the exact date you told me. Can I help it if the Omni has other ideas?"

Jeffrey sighed. "No, I guess not. Sorry, Bogg."

Phineas smiled at him. "It's okay, kid. I know you want to get to Georgia. But first we gotta see what's wrong here."

Jeff groaned. "Bet there's no soda here, either."

"There's always fruit juice, or water."

The boy rolled his eyes. "That's not funny."

"Couldn't resist," the older Voyager grinned back at him. "Besides, soda's probably not all that good for you, anyway."

"Well, let's find out what's wrong _here_ so we can fix it and get to Georgia," Jeffrey said, starting to walk.

Bogg followed. "You're the history book in pants; you tell me."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Jeffrey asked once Phineas had caught up with him. "It's getting kind of old, you know."

"Just a nickname," he shrugged. "But I'll stop if you want me to."

Jeff saw the disappointed look in his eyes, though, and regretted saying anything. "It's okay, really. It just sounds like I'm still a little kid, that's all."

"Well, you still are, aren't you?" Bogg grinned.

Realizing his partner was teasing him, Jeff chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he agreed.

"Absolutely not, George. I'm not going," a woman's voice drifted over to them, her tone firm, and the two ducked out of sight to listen.

The woman wore trousers, unusual for this time, and she had a head full of short, tousled blonde curls.

The dark-haired man with her looked at her through his glasses. "Amelia, listen to me," he began.

"I'm not arguing with you. Too many things have gone wrong; I think we just need to put this off and try again another time."

"Put it off too long, and you'll miss your chance to be the first woman to fly around the world."

"What difference does it make? Does it even matter anymore?"

"I think we've found our problem," Jeffrey murmured unhappily. "That's Amelia Earhart. She's supposed to make that flight...but she never finished it. She disappeared over the Pacific and was never found."

"Jeff..."

"No way, Bogg. I'm not going to do it."

"Jeff, we can't change it. It's history," Bogg said gently, feeling like a broken record.

"I'm not going to let it happen. So what if she doesn't die? Can't we at least save her and her crew?"

Phineas sighed. The last time he had seen this kind of reaction had been on the _Titanic._ It had been horrible for the kid to watch the ship go down - especially thinking he was still on it - but he knew that it had to happen.

"Jeffrey, we have to do it. I know you don't like it; neither do I. I never said voyaging was always going to be a pleasant trip."

He knew this sort of thing was particularly hard for him, as it always reminded him of his own parents, but they had a job to do, and their own feelings about it were irrelevant.

Hey, where do you think you're going?" he demanded as the boy started walking away from him.

_"Not_ with you," Jeffrey shot back. Bogg watched helplessly as the boy darted over to the couple. "Mr. Putnam, you have to listen to her," he said earnestly. "With everything that's gone wrong so far, you have to _know_ somebody's trying to tell you something!"

"Nonsense, boy," George Putnam told him. "That's a lot of superstitious twaddle. Now why don't you just run along and leave us to make this decision _rationally."_

Amelia looked at him. "You know something, George, you're right," she said. "I did sound awfully superstitious just then, didn't I? I suppose we'd best get back to the airfield and finish our preparations."

George smiled at her as they turned and went back the way they had come, with Jeffrey staring flabbergasted after them.

"Boy, _that_ blew up right in my face, didn't it?" he grumbled, then turned as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"It happens that way sometimes, kid," Bogg consoled him as he opened the Omni.

"Green light, huh?" At Bogg's nod, he went on, "Then get us out of here, will you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Atlanta, Georgia 1886**

Jeffrey groaned as he got up from the wet grass. Appearently it had been raining, due to the looks of the puddles in the nearby roads.

His partner stood up, a little shaky. Jeffrey figured it was due to his bad knee, so he didn't really think much about it.  
"Where are we, Bogg?" he asked the familiar question.

"Hold on, just a sec." Feeling a little queasy, Phineas turned away from Jeffrey and began to hurl.

"Bogg? You okay?" came the concerned voice of his young partner, who had noticed an unusual shade of green on his face.

Phineas whiped his mouth and turned back to the young man. "I think something we ate back there didn't agree with me,"

Jeff made a face. "You don't think it could have been that hot dog with all the works?" he said dryly.

He grimaced as the thought of that wonderful hot dog threatened to turn his stomach again.  
"Could be...." He cut himself off as he whirled away and was sick again. Jeffrey winced at the sound and felt awful for his friend. He hated throwing up; more than likely so did Phineas. "We don't have to do anything right away if you don't feel up to it," he said.

When he was finished, Phineas turned around to face Jeff again.  
"I'll be okay, kid. Just give me a minute, will ya?" Phineas groaned, clutching at his stomach,which was cramping painfully. He gulped to try to control the rising bile, but it was a losing battle; he turned round once again to toss---what? He didn't think he'd eaten _that_ much; where was it all coming from?

He hated being sick, especially in front of the kid. Though some part of him knew Jeffrey wouldn't think less of him for it, even after all this time his ego refused to let go of the image of the strong one, the one who could handle anything. Now he felt vulnrable, weak.

"Bogg?" Jeff's voice was full of concern.

"Don't worry. We'll get your Coca-Cola up and running," he told him.

"Right now I'm more worried about you," Jeffrey said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder.

Phineas forced a smile. "Thanks, kid. I appereciate that."

Jeffrey wrapped his arms around him, and Bogg returned the favor, until he felt the urge to vomit once again. He couldn't let go of Jeffrey fast enough, but at least he managed not to splatter him. " Sorry, kid," he groaned when the retching stopped.

"It's okay, Bogg," Jeff assured him.

"Are you all right, sir?" a voice from behind them asked, and theyturned to face a man in is early middle years, with greying dark hair and sparkling brown eyes.

"My father ate something that didn't agree with him," Jeffrey answered. Once he would have been uncertain about making that claim, but they'd used the cover enough times now that it was nearly automatic.

"I may be able to help you," the man offered.

Firmly sitting on his ego, he admitted with a wry smile, "I'd really appreciate that."

"Then please, come with me."

The pair followed the newcomer cautiously and slowly, mostly for Phineas' benefit, since his stomach was still uncertain. He put a hand on Jeff's shoulder.

The boy looked up at him and noticed the look. "Sir, we need to stop for a minute." he informed the stranger, who had gotten a little ahead of them.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not used to people walking with me. We shall take a moment's rest, if needed."

Phineas nodded thankfully and sat down on a nearby bench. He was beginning to feel weaker by the moment.

"We're not that far away from my house, if you think you can make it," the man informed them.

Jeffrey sat down next to Phineas and put an arm around the man's shulder. He could feel the tension increasing in Bogg and was getting more worried. He'd never known Bogg to be sick, and he was not afraid to admit that he was getting scared. He was glad of the help, since he didn't know what to do. A coke would have helped to settle his stomach, but that was the problem: It hadn't been invented. "Think you can walk?" he asked, trying to sound calmer than he was.

"I think so. Just help me up, will ya?"

Jeff obliged, hiding the rapidly growing fear. Bogg rarely asked for help until all other options had been exhausted. Once he had steadied himsef, they continued to walk until they came to a white house with a front porch. But they didn't go inside; instead, the stranger led them into the back yard, where they found a small fire burning. A kettle was hanging on a tripod over it, merrily boiling. He poured the contents into a tin mug and handed it to Bogg. "You'll need to drink all of it, sir," he said.

Phineas took a sip and made a face.

"That bad, huh?" Jeffrey said sympatheticlly.

"Awful," Phineas had to admit, but took another gulp. As long as it worked, it didn't matter how it tasted. He actually managed to drink the whole cup before he handed it back to their benefactor. It worked fast; his stomach was already beginning to feel better.

"I'm Jeffrey Jones. This is my father, Phineas Bogg." Jeffrey introduced the both of them.

"But you have different last names," the man remarked, puzzled.

"I'm actually his guardian," Bogg said. "His parents are gone."

The man glanced at Jeffrey. "I'm sorry," he said.

"It's okay. Bogg's great," Jeffrey smiled, and it really _was_ okay. Bogg's care, more than just time, had gone a long way toward helping to heal his pain.

"I'm John Pemberton," the man introduced himself and shook hands with both of them. It was then Jeffrey realized that they were conversing with the very man who was supposed to invent Coca-Cola.

"Bogg, it's him!" Jeffrey hissed, not caring that Pemberton heard.

Phineas looked over at the other man, who was busy feeding the fire.

"You sure?" he whispered.

"Sure I'm sure. I remember reading about how he made soda. This is the exact way they said he did it before it _was _soda."

Phineas opened up his Omni. "If this is the way it's done, then how come it's still red?" He showed Jeffrey the blinking Omni.

Jeffrey shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe something happens between now and when he invents soda."

Phineas nodded. He looks right into Jeff's brown eyes. "Hey, ya know something?"

"What?"

"I'm feeling _much_ better. I don't even feel sick anymore."

"Hey, that's great!"

Pemberton stood up and noticed the change in their demeanor. "I take it you're feeling better," he remarked.

"Yes, sir, I am. Thank you," Bogg replied.

"My pleasure," Pemberton smiled at him.

"Is there something we can do for you?" Jeffrey asked.

"Not really," Pemberton sighed, looking over at his little camp fire.

"But there _is _a problem, isn't there?" Bogg said perceptively.

"Well, since the bank won't fund my research, I guess I'll have to give it up and wait 'til someone else comes along who's willing to help me."

Jeffrey and Bogg exchanged glances. Now they knew what was wrong.....


End file.
